Why we SHOULD Rebuild New Orleans

Happy 23^rd Birthday, Aaron!

Day three on the worksite commenced and I have to admit that my own enthusiasm for filling nail holes and caulking base-boards had waned. However, my respect for our crew chiefs has grown exponentially. It is one thing to give up a week of my time and dedicate myself to long-overdue construction on a home for a deserving owner. However, the young people of ESCLA do this five days a week for a year or more. To be done well, it requires a deep commitment to discovering one’s most altruistic self. In my experience, this kind of self-exploration is all too rare. For Annie, Sophie, and all who are committed to this type of work, we’re thankful for your inspiration and your witness to all those whom you meet. We could use more folks like ya’ll!

[Just to be clear, we did do lots of great work today – baseboards are closer to being done, lots of quarter rounds were installed, and some folks mixed and poured concrete to create a foundation for the water heater. Go team!]

After work today, we joined with another group of college students from Missouri and received a formal orientation from Pete (mentioned in yesterday’s post.) Pete gave us a thorough overview of the cit of New Orleans before and after Katrina from a social, economic, environmental, and historical perspective. As you might imagine, the reductionist pictures that were often painted by the news media in the wake of Hurricane Katrina did not come close to giving a full perspective. I cannot possibly do justice to all we learned today, but I will try and mention a few highlights.

We were grateful to be reminded that the history of the United States can be traced on foot through the city of New Orleans. We discussed seminal events and people in light of the question that has frequently been posed post-Katrina, “Why bother rebuilding New Orleans?” New Orleans is truly one of the country’s treasure chests’ of history and culture. You can see it in the development of jazz, the fusion of the cuisine, and the diverse mix of people who call the city home.

There are lots of things you may not realize about Hurricane Katrina, or were misled to believe. For example, Katrina did not make land fall in New Orleans. New Orleans, while surrounded by several different bodies of water, is not a coastal city. There are many, many acres of wetlands between the coast and New Orleans. However, the wetlands are currently eroding at a rate of A FOOTBALL FIELD EVERY THIRTY-TWO MINUTES. Meaning, when powerful storms like Katrina make landfall on the Gulf Coast and move inland, the effect of the storm surge is far greater than it should be. Hurricane Katrina was only a category 3, not category 5, as was often reported. The list goes on, but I won’t try and recreate it from scraps of my own memory. Rather, I will encourage you to read books, watch documentaries, and most importantly, come visit New Orleans and learn more for yourself.

Pete also told us a bit about the NOLA service corps. (I mentioned it earlier in reference to one of our crew chiefs, Sophie.) The service corps is an opportunity that allows young adults to live in an intentional Christian community and spend a year committing to serving others. That can mean acting as a crew chief in the rebuild efforts, coordinating Mobile Loaves & Fishes, or teaching in one of the city’s literacy programs. Additionally, service corps members learn about New Orleans, and commit to participating in various activities designed to enhance spiritual and personal growth.

After gaining a deeper understanding of the undercurrents of the dynamics in New Orleans, we drove to the Lower 9^th ward. The Lower 9^th ward was one of the areas most frequently displayed in the news media following the flooding after Hurricane Katrina. It was the sight of the infamous barge breach in the levee. To date, it has not been determined whether the levee burst, letting the barge into the neighborhood, or the barge was the agent that caused the burst in the levee. Regardless, destruction was catastrophic. There are still certain blocks in the neighborhood that are completely sparse and bear no semblance to what used to be a bustling residential area. The Lower 9^th was a working class neighborhood of 18,000 residents pre-2005. Nearly 6 years later, approximately 3,500 people have returned to the neighborhood. A good number of folks now residing in the Lower 9^th moved in for the first time after the storm. Meaning, most of the original multi-generation home-owners have not returned. Brad Pitt’s project, Make It Right, accounts for the majority of the construction that has been done to date. While providing safe and sustainable homes for working class families is a noble goal, many residents are shouldered with tremendous mortgage payments. This project is certainly changing the shape of the neighborhood by limiting who is able to afford to come back. Yet, local and national government funding has completely dried up. Driving through the Lower 9^th was a stunningly eerie and humbling experience. If the trees could speak, I’m certain they would, and we would weep to hear of all they have to tell.

After a long day, we made our way to a local favorite of mine, Miss Hystra’s BBQ restaurant in the Broadmoor district. We ate roasted chicken, and fall-off-the-bone-ribs, along with macaroni & cheese, green beans, home made corn bread, and baked beans until we were ready to burst. It was soul food in every sense of the phrase!

Finally, we were able to convince our birthday guy to let us do what he wanted to for a few hours. Aaron’s narrative all day captured the selfless spirit we were doing our best to live into all week – he didn’t want it to be his day at all. Instead, he wanted to spend time doing things for others. We could certainly use more Aaron’s in the world! We did have a rousing game of Frisbee – during which Aaron was the great rescuer of the disc that flew into the neighbor’s back yard (more than once.) We also went to the Rock ‘N Bowl for an evening of Zydeco dancing and bowling. Brian Jack & the Zydeco Gamblers were INCREDIBLE!!! They had the bonus effect of helping us bowl better. The Fried Bread Pudding Po Boy was a perfect end to the birthday celebration.

Goodnight, New Orleans!

the Treme

Day two of our work in the home in the Lakeview neighborhood was focused on details – baseboards, quarter rounds, returns, caulking, nail-hole-filling, and other exciting things. It all seems small in and of itself, but each task makes a big difference in the finished product. When things got tedious, it was helpful to be reminded to give as much attention to the home as we would want given to our own. The team is working together more smoothly with every hour that passes. The 80’s rock tunes only help to keep the energy high – and encourage spontaneous dance parties throughout the day.

Tonight we attended a mid-week Eucharist and healing service at St. Anna’s Episcopal Church in the Treme. The first thing you’ll notice is the murder wall on the outside of the sanctuary. Handwritten on large sheets of foam board are the name, age, and cause of death for every person in the area who has died as a result of violence in the last year. This is one way the St. Anna’s community has chosen to give voice to one of the many injustices that plague the city. The service itself was a Rite II Eucharist, though it has clearly taken on the character of the community. Meaning, we sung Gospel hymns, yet also rang bells to honor the presence of the Holy Spirit in the midst of the Eucharistic prayer (typically regarded as a “high church” tradition.) During the prayers of the people, they name each person who has died in the city that week. It is yet another way of giving voice to all that is going on in the community that needs their prayers and attention. During the sermon, Father Bill Terry preached on the legacy of the venerable Bede of Monk. His message of relevancy was appropriate for our task for the week. He reminded us of many of the ways in which the church has become less accessible, which is exactly the opposite of what it was created to be. Using insiders language, creating markers for membership, and ultimately means for keeping people out, all hinder the mission of Jesus Christ – to love others. We are able to do the work that Jesus Christ did.

During announcements, it was clear that our group was “not a part of our normal rag tag gathering.” So we introduced ourselves. We were thrilled to meet two parishioners who have played roles as extras in the hit HBO series, “Treme,” including the church piano player & organist, who is often the one playing the piano in the TV soundtrack. Father Terry also issued us a very specific message, “You afford the people of New Orleans dignity by showing up. When people are forgotten their dignity is taken away. By showing up, you remind us that we matter and that people love us. Thank you for being here.” We were humbled to be in the presence of such a loving, genuinely Christian community.

For dinner we went to a hole in the wall establishment for some of the best po-boys and fried alligator bites we’ve ever had! We were joined by Pete Nunnally, Mission and Volunteer Coordinator of ESCLA. Pete took time to tell us his story of service in the city. Several months after Hurricane Katrina, Pete traveled to New Orleans on a short-term mission trip. He spent time gutting houses, removing personal belongings and valuables. Years later, Pete still describes it as a horribly gut-wrenching process. People’s lives were literally reduced to trash. Pete soon quit his job, sold his house, and moved to New Orleans to be a crew chief on various work sites, gutting and beginning to rebuild houses throughout New Orleans. After three months as a crew chief, Pete was invited to become the Mission and Volunteer coordinator, a position he still currently holds. His love for the city, the people, and the work is abundantly clear!

On the end of our second day of work, we’re slowly beginning to weave together a narrative of the folks with whom we have worshipped, worked, and communed. I have never encountered a city or a group of people who have the same collective narrative in the way that the residents of New Orleans do. The disastrous event of six years ago is without a doubt, “the failure of the federal levee system,” not Hurricane Katrina. They spoke of neglect and denial of the magnitude of destruction and despair from all authority figures. But throughout there narratives were words of hope, forgiveness, and compassion – both for one another and for the place that they have called home. One of the themes that came up over and over again today was dignity. You cannot put a price on dignity. It cannot be physically destroyed and rebuilt. However, by showing up, listening, and being in relationship with someone, dignity is something that they are able to reclaim. The catastrophes that followed in the wake of the failure of the federal levee system caused deep and lasting damage. Sitting with folks and diligently working to allow them time to reclaim what all humanity deserves, is the real work that is needed in this place, and in so many others.

Goodnight, New Orleans!

Heartthrob

This morning we met the Episcopal Community Services of Louisiana (ECSLA) Volunteer Coordinator, who gave us a great history of ECSLA. In a nutshell, it is a grassroots operation that began with a bunch of Episcopalians and a few tools. As a Diocese, they responded to the clear need that was left in the wake of Hurricane Katrina and the failure of the federal levee system. To date, they have gutted some 900+ homes and rebuilt 76 houses from scratch – which are all still standing and in great condition. They have been creative about designing the program, welcoming volunteers, subcontracting professionals, and continuing to rebuild the city despite more than a few setbacks – most of which were financial. But they’re still going strong and responding to the needs that remain in the community. We also got to meet our Crew Chiefs for the week, Sophie & Annie. They are fabulous!!! Sophie is a part of the NOLA Service Corps program (more on that later,) and Annie moved down late last summer to be a crew chief. It was really interesting to hear about what they have learned and observed in the last 10 months.

We spent our day working on a home in the Lakeview neighborhood. There was at least 3-4 feet of standing water in Lakeview for several weeks following the flooding – certainly not the worst in the city. The homeowner had purchased the piece of property we are currently working on before Hurricane Katrina hit, but had not received the final title deeds, which turned out to be a huge problem. The insurance company awarded the money for the damage to the previous owners, who still possessed the deed to the house, even though it had been months since they occupied the home. As a result, it has taken these residents an unusual amount of time to be able to begin clearing debris and rebuilding the house. When the ESC team arrived on the scene in February of this year, there was still debris to be cleaned – clothes that remained in closets. However, you wouldn’t have known that when we arrived today. The construction is quite impressive, and things are really coming together. We spent some time this morning cleaning the yard, primarily to make space for the foundation that will soon be poured for the water heater. Some of us put first, second, and third coats of “Heartthrob” red on the living room walls. Whatever you’re imagining – it’s at least four shades brighter and bolder. Others of our group caulked and painted exterior window frames, and painted window shades (“hardware” grey). There are many more exciting projects to come throughout the week, though I think we’re most looking forward to demolition of the carport!!!

We also enjoyed our visit from the Mobile Loaves and Fishes of Trinity Episcopal Church. They delivered a much needed and greatly appreciated feast for lunch! All in all, it was a tremendous day of work.

For dinner this evening, we walked to Louisiana Pizza at the end of our street. Delicacies such as lamb pizza hit the spot after a long day of work. We then played a short-lived but rousing game of Episcopalopy. We also vowed to try and re-write the game. Though supposedly written for sixth graders, its quarks were difficult for a group of young adults to understand. Billy and Aaron outlasted the rest of us and went to hear the Rebirth Brass band at a local joint in our neighborhood. Apparently they’ve been playing there every Tuesday night for the last 25 years. The food, the music, the people – New Orleans is a beautiful city!

As we closed out our first day of work together with Compline and time for reflection, there was a lot to ponder. What does it mean to be “home?” What are the luxuries that one is afforded by having a private, personal space? How does one grapple with a space that is supposed to provide security and rest, and is nothing but a source of stress and painful memories. It’s all counter-intuitive in a way, but yet living reality for so many in New Orleans, even six years after the failure of the federal levee system. One thing is clear, we are grateful to have a week to pour our energy into doing whatever we can to create a home for one deserving family.

Goodnight, New Orleans!

Destination: New Orleans, Louisiana

The following blogs tell the story of a mission trip to New Orleans. While they were written during the trip, they are being posted following our arrival at home, purely because of easier internet access.

Three folks from the Episcopal Student Center at the University of Texas embarked on a journey. The missioner, program coordinator, and another brave member of the community are joining with the Episcopal Campus Ministry from Baylor University on a mission trip to New Orleans. The upcoming blogs will include the tales of our travels. We hope that in sharing these stories, you might be encouraged to intentionally explore your own journey as well.

After a long but entertaining journey on Monday, we arrived in the Crescent City. It was stunning to see the height and power of the water through the swamp lands as we drove in over the bridges between Baton Rouge and New Orleans. The tributaries were still very much swollen from the controlled release of water upstream.

We are staying at the Cholstrom Parish House, which is affiliated with St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church. It is BEAUTIFUL – as are most things in the Garden district located just off the street car line. We have front porches for sitting, back yards for frolicking, and beds to rest our tired bodies. We are so grateful!

Once the group from Baylor arrived (Yay!!!) we headed to the French Quarter for dinner. I kept forgetting that Hadyn and Jewlez have never been to New Orleans, and was frequently surprised by their squeals and screeches of delight. Although I am overjoyed to be back, it’s also a lot of fun to watch them take it all in for the first time. We had a delicious dinner in the French Quarter – red beans & rice, gumbo, jambalaya, and crawfish etouffee. We have arrived!

We also made a stop at the only Wal-Mart in New Orleans for breakfast and lunch amenities. The Texans in the group were shocked to discover that it was not a 24-hour facility. Truly, shocked. We were later told that it used to be a 24-hour facility, but now closes at 10PM because it was the most dangerous location in the whole of the city. Meaning, crimes occurred more frequently at or around the Wal-Mart than anywhere else in the city.

We are excited for all that this week will bring. Goodnight, New Orleans!

Social Creativity: Zuckerburg Style

I've been wanting to see "The Social Network" ever since I first saw previews for it. I finally made it on Monday. I'm certainly glad I saw it - though the issues that have stuck with me were not what I would have predicted. Mark Zuckerburg's character is portrayed as something of a monster, which the reviews had all indicated. I'm going to dare to disagree. Zuckerburg, as has been proved in many ways, possesses above average intelligence. Finding a "normalized" niche for himself has clearly been an ongoing challenge. This was evident even in the brilliant opening scene with his girlfriend. What I find even more striking about Zuckerburg, is how blatantly his knack for creativity is rejected. Granted, I am certainly not condoning "Facemash" or any sort of medium which diminishes, females, or anyone else for that matter. Being called before the ethical council at Harvard was certainly an appropriate action. Yet, he clearly has a brilliant mind and was interested in creating something new.

As his idea for social networking evolved and expanded into Facebook during the course of the movie, I struggled to understand the law suits and arguments of his former best friend and the twins. Was it pure jealousy? Was it greed for personal success? Intellectual capital and creativity is not something that can be quantified. Granted, we do that all the time with the seeming products that come from such creativity and intellectual labor. Have we lost sight of the actual value of creativity for creation's sake?

This narrative from this movie has been running through my mind for the past four days. I have the privilege of working with young people in many different capacities. One of my most joyful tasks is to stimulate their imaginations and spark their creativity. Without railing on our educational systems, suffice it to say it's something I think we all need to work to restore to the daily lives of our young people. Revolutionary ideas are certainly not confined to Ivory towers. I don't have a solution for the casualties of Zuckerburg's particular situation, which has since resolved itself. It does make me wonder what our society might look like if we valued collaboration and creativity more than the bottom line.

Welcome Home!

Zebras assault the mind

with a blinding frenzy of direction.

Giraffes tower

high above the soul.

Gazelles trample the land

bounding toward home.

Elephants graze discretely

hiding along the horizon

Hyena circle their target

slyly playing their game.

Massai pepper the landscape

bursting with color and joy!

"You are very welcome here,"

your new home.

Peter

Beth & Peter at Ubuntu Day

Tonight over dinner, Jeremiah told us Peter's story. Peter is in the verbal Malika kids class at CTC, though he doesn't have a disability. He was a street boy who frequented CTC. Jeremiah fed him a few times and enquired after his story. He traveled with his mom and a younger sibling to visit family in Maai Mahiu. Somewhere along the way, his mom abandoned him. It appears she also suffered from a mental illness. His grandmother could not take him in as she is struggling too. CTC accepted him. He now lives with his teacher, Jane, but it is only a temporary arrangement.

Peter remembered all of our names on the first day. He also knew exactly who we were when we returned two days later. He is incredibly bright, but extremely delayed. At 10, he presents as 6 or 7 years old. We have begun a serious conversation with Jeremiah about a possible new initiative for street children. It would be in the interest of the community, future and present, to have a healthy, stable home for these children. All of the orphanages are currently full and/or overcrowded. They are only accepting children aged 5-10. So there are a large majority of children who are under-served as it is. Please keep Peter and all the street children of Maai Mahiu in your prayers.

I would take him if I could. He has captured my heart. Sweet, sweet peter.

Peter & one of his friends sporting our sunglasses.

The Beautiful Game

July 24, 2010

Ubuntu is an African concept that means, "I am because we are." Today was an embodiment of Ubuntu.

I will never forget today. it began by witnessing the slaughter of four goats. I cannot believe how easily the fur pulls away from the skin. The Masaii donated the goats for the Ubuntu celebration. The tribesman who oversaw the slaughter was an artist - plain and simple.

As Ken, Charles, Sam & I walked back toward CTC on the main road through town, we could see that a respectable crowd had gathered. As we drew nearer, my heart began to pound. There were Masaii and Turkana, children in every imaginable school uniform, old & young, rich & poor. They were migrating from tree to tree along the main road through town. Each tree was being planted by a representative of a respective group. As the dirt was shoveled, the group in focus led the entire community in song. The pavement shook under the rhythm - two thousand feet from the thousand souls gathered. After each tree was secured, the community erupted with cheers, applause, and tribal praise sounds. It was as if the significance of those plants was already worth celebrating for future generations. Truckers stopped along their side of the road. Shop-owners suspended businesses. All were gathered to make a joyful noise. In the midst of great diversity was a deep sense of eternal unity. In a community where violence recently ruined lives, the bonds of unity were strengthened deeply today. It was a glimpse of the kingdom of God.

Masaii children performing a traditional dance.

The day continued with hours upon hours of presentations - skits, songs, dances, and tribal traditions - from all of the assembly gathered. It was the most marvelous display of color, movement, and song I have ever witnessed. The celebration was soaked in healthy pride.

The festivities ended with a soccer tournament. Erase whatever images you have of soccer from your Western experience. There was no grass, no lines on the field, no cones, and the goals were not regulation size. It was a plain of dust, raw talent, and the jerseys and new soccer balls we had carried in our suitcases from Austin. The CTC team received the jerseys earlier in the afternoon and erupted into a chorus of "Ole! Ole! Ole!" ala World Cup. They had clearly been given a jolt from the new uniforms as they won the first round of the tournament.

As the sun set, CTC went on to face the team from the IDP (Internally Displaced Persons) Camp in the championship game. We ended regulation time and entered into penalty shots. You must realize that cheering section of hundreds had now lined the perimeter of the goal. Following each shot, the victorious team (shooter or goalie) fled to congratulate the player. After the first round of five penalty shots each, the game was still tied 0-0. As we entered the second round of penalty shots, CTC captured the tournament 2-1. It was pure mayhem. The team and fans took off running, and rounded the perimeter of the field.

Finally, they cruised back to the feet of Jeremiah. Each of the young men wearing a jersey hit their knees. The fans were still pressed in around them - young and old admiring their new heros. I assumed kneeling in prayer was standard post-game ritual for this team. I later found out the team was sure that the jerseys were blessed. They wanted Pastor Jeremiah to offer a prayer giving thanks for their success and their new blessed uniforms. I'm certain it was those young men who blessed our lives today.

God is good,

All the time.

All the time,

God is good.

Wisdom

July 23, 2010

We spent the afternoon at St. Paul's University. We had the privilege of sitting down with Esther Mambo, Vice Chancellor and Professor. The following are excerpts, as best I was able to recall them later that night, from our conversation with her.

Q: What are the struggles you have personally faced as an educated woman in your culture?

Esther: Young

"Being single, which is a calling."

Female

Educated

"I am too tall for the box they would like to put me in."

"Each of these things has become a blessing because I am doing ministry in the context God called me to."

"I spoke at a conference of 800-900 Mums in Western Kenya - representing six Dioceses. The Bishops from each Diocese decided to come and they were prominently displayed on the dais. All of these women were running around to take care of them because that's the way Bishops are treated here. Each of them got up to speak and said something about the end of the Anglican Church in the US. They all had something bad to say But I found that interesting, because the first chance they get, they will travel to the West. SO anyways, I am the last speaker an the whole time I am wondering what I am going to say because this is supposed to be a conference about women in the church. So I get up and begin by saying how proud I am to be a part of the Anglican Church because we have a woman primate. First women deacons, then, priests, bishops, and now a Primate. The whole room applauded. I knew I was in trouble then! I asked the women to enter into a conversation with me. I wanted to talk with them about what issues they had with the church. There were microphones spread around the room and I asked some people to record the answers with markers on chart paper. So women started sharing, "wife-beating." "Polygamy." And they went on. After all the Bishops had shared about the evil West, not one woman who spoke up shared their concerns. I want you to know that just because the people in power believe something, that does not mean they have listened to their people.

One courageous woman articulated a question directly to the bishops, "I want to know why it is okay for priests and bishops to spend money we work so hard to earn on prostitution and extra wives." The room was still. I told the bishops, "She asked you, not me." Each bishop down the line did not make a single comment until the very last one on the stage. He finally responded, "I don't know." At least he had the decency to say something. He was the only one who returned to the subsequent sessions.

Q: What gives you inner strength?

Esther: My grandmother, who raised me to believe I can be exactly who I am. Knowing that I am created in the image and likeness of God as a child of God.

Q: What gives you your drive?

Esther: Knowing that I might transform just a few lives.

There were many things about our conversation with Esther that will stick with me. However, I was most struck by a challenge that she articulated throughout her personal and communal narrative. As Christians and as Africans, how can we be defined by membership in the Body of Christ before our tribe, clan or nationality?

Sho-Sho Shambas

July 22, 2010

Today was another beautiful day - though the coolest so far in Maai Mahiu. We spent the majority of the day working in the Shamba (garden) with the Sho-shos (grandmothers). The grandmothers have partnered with CTC because their children died from AIDS. They are now the sole care-takers for their grand-children. Don't think of your grandmother though, because that's probably not the right image. Think of your mom - and that's probably closer to the physical appearance of these women. The average age of the grandmothers is 40-50, and they are physically indefatigable. They were delightful and patient with us as we fumbled to till the soil and plant the vegetables.

Rocky, the CTC manager of the gardens, has a beautiful sense of humor and honest passion for his work. I feel so fortunate to know him, Charles, the Sho-shos, the Community Health Workers (who showed us around the IDP camps), Muhammed (a resident we met yesterday from the IDP Camp), Dominique (the general manager at our hotel,) Paris (a young woman who works at the hotel). CTC is a family and I'm privileged to be a part of it.

Rocky & Charles

Paris & our dinner!

Threes

July 21, 2010

This morning I was jolted out of sleep around 5:30AM to the sounds of an angry mob. What sounded like a large crowd of males were banging on the gate of our hotel. I had no idea what was happening because I don't speak Swahili. A lot of things went through my head - the most prevalent emotion being fear. A large rock was hurled at my door not long after I crawled out of my misquote net. I attempted to lock myself in the my bathroom, only to discover that the lock didn't work. I hadn't felt at all unsafe up to this point, so it never occurred to me to check the lock. As it turns out, the men had chased a thief out of town and thought he jumped into the hotel grounds. They didn't catch him that we're aware of, but they probably would have killed him if so. The mob dissipated, and we were all fine, albeit quite shaken.

As you might imagine, we had lots of conversation about what had happened throughout the day. I was really struck to think about what might have happened in the states in a similar situation. My best guess is that there would have been a great deal of unnecessary gunfire and consequent injuries. The men with rocks and machetes were merely enforcing their community norms. Stealing is not tolerated, plain and simple. In a town where the police are corrupt, it's up to the people to take care of one another. I can't imagine living in a society like that. I'll take rocks and machete-wielding self-regulations within a community any day - though that's admittedly not what crossed my mind at the time.

We spent the rest of the day at a camp for Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs). In the presidential election of 2007, a Prime Minister and President of different tribes were elected. There was a great deal of resulting violence. Mainly, persons of the Kikou tribe were chased out of their homes, which were burned to the ground. Entire families were killed. People fled to community churches for safety, which were consequently torched. Around 3,000 people were killed, but over 30,000 were displaced. Some still do not know the whereabouts of family members today- 3 years later. 3 years later, many are still living in tents. Today, many of those families welcomed us into their humble tents and homes. They graciously shared their stories. The way that many of us would tell of our family heritage, our history as a recovering addict, or our triumphs as an athlete, each and every person whom we encountered today introduced themselves in the following manner, "My name is Sylvia, and I am an IDP." 3 years later, men and women who use to run their own businesses still have no source of income. In 3 years I earned a masters degree and went through a holistic self-transformation. I cannot imagine simply putting my life on hold for 3 years. No one should be treated that way. I am overwhelmed by the need. I am overwhelmed by the suffering. I am overwhelmed by the injustice. Yet, I am also overwhelmed by their hope, their perseverance, their joy, their hospitality, and their spirit.

God, give me the grace to tell their story.

Malika Mums & Kids

Two of the Malika kids and some friends, including Ruth (seated closest to me.)

July 19, 2010

Today we received a thorough tour of the town of Maai Mahiu from our fearless guide, Charles. We walked the neighborhoods, somewhat overwhelmed and silenced by the amount of trash. It was difficult to understand why so many children were not in school. Yet, also beautiful to receive simple, yet enthusiastic greetings from each and everyone, "How are you? How are you?" We visited Ngea Primary school, one of the poorest in the region, where we spent time in the garden later that week. We caught a glimpse of CTC's gardens throughout the community.

We also toured the CTC headquarters, learning more about each of their primary initiatives. We met the Malika mums, meaning "angel moms." These women are the mothers of the disabled children who go to school at CTC. Disabilities carry a huge stigma in Africa - even more so than other countries. A need rose up organically out of the community to have a place that is safe, an educational environment for the children, and a means of income for the mothers of these children. Currently, only children who can walk, or whose families can deliver them to CTC each day are able to attend school. Finding a way to meet the needs of those who are a few kilometers a way remains a huge priority for CTC. Several times a week, Special Education Professionals travel to Maai Mahiu to train the teachers/caretakers in specialized care. Liz, the group leader for the mums, explained their activities to us. They make L.I.F.E.bags - essentially what you would think of as non-plastic grocery bags - except they're beautiful. Each woman has a role in making each bag, and they rotate everyday. They make them in bulk or for individuals, but all the proceeds go directly to the mums to help support their families.

There are three main classrooms of Malika kids, "angel kids." The first classroom has children who are both non-verbal and do not have full control over their bodies. These are typically the children who have most recently joined CTC. The second classroom has both children who are verbal and children who are not. But it was also an amazing site to have Charles introduce the children to us and realize that they are all able to sit or stand - a feat which they were not able to accomplish a short time ago. The final classroom is full of some of the children whom we might consider "mainstream" in the US. They have more energy and spunk than most kids I've ever met! This group of Malika kids were soooo excited to show off for us. They sang us a few songs, "I wake up in the morning and I wash my face, I brush my teeth, I take a cup of tea, I go to school...", recited some scripture passages, and showed off their math skills on the chalk board. As we introduced ourselves, Charles quizzed the children as to who could remember our names. These children will pop up in the story again later in the week, but to say I was impressed would them would be a dramatic understatement. The main edict of the Malika program is, "Disability is not inability" - a lesson that I gather many of us could stand to be reminded of, no matter where we are.

I had to excuse myself from the room to get some fresh air before too long. The day had been a bit overwhelming, and seeing three classrooms full of children was about all I could handle. Charles came over to me on the bench and took my hand and offered a memorable question that he had heard from one of his systematic theology professors a while back, "Why did God choose to be glorified in children like this?"

Malika Mums dancing & performing on Ubuntu day (Saturday.) Jane, the woman pictured in the front, has a disabled daughter. But she lives at the IDP camp over 5 kilometers away, so she is unable to transport her daily. Jane is still involved as a Malika mum, in hopes that there will soon be a means for her daughter to come to school everyday.

God's Dancing Day

For the past twelve days, I embarked on a journey with the Community & Faith team to Maai Mahiu, Kenya through Comfort the Children International, CTC. While I did not take my lap top to blog every night, I did record my thoughts and experience the old fashioned way - a pen and paper, kids! The lessons I learned and stories I heard are much too important to keep to myself. One way I am trying to get the word out is by converting my journal entries into blog format. I traveled with a fabulous team of five others from Austin & Houston. Please realize that my reflections are just what I was able to see through my own lens. I hope this is just the beginning of many more conversations and trips to come.

July 18, 2010

Tonight is my first night in Maai Mahiu, Kenya. It is strange - I've journeyed so far, and yet i feel so at home. There is so little that actually separates humanity. The human condition is fundamentally universal. Yet we find so many ways to focus on the differences. It is a joy and a blessing to be able to focus on the beauty in humanity half way around the world.

After arriving at the Longernot Transit Hotel - where we will be staying all week - we took off into a rural portion of the Rift Valley. In the absolute middle of nowhere, we came upon a church building. Area tribes and churches had gathered under one roof to welcome the American visitors from CTC. Rarely have I experienced anything as pure. It was authentic songs of the soul. It was movement of the spirit and praise of God. One of the first songs they sang for us was about every person using the gifts they have been given from God. I traveled 9,000 miles and the first piece of scripture I heard was one that we've used so often at summer camp. God's presence is stunning.

We sat under a tree and had a feast that the women had been preparing for us all morning, Nyama Choma (roasted meat). The generosity of the Masai was apparent and deep. I spent the rest of the afternoon dancing with a little girl in a beautiful orange taffeta dress. Her smile was beautiful and her laugher intoxicating. As we were squatting and examining goats, she stood and said good-bye. Her mother had appeared on the horizon of the bush. How she knew she was there, I'll never know. My new friend took off running.

Later, Jeremiah, the Kenya director of CTC, explained how unique the village and the worship service was. Different tribes don't typically live and worship together, especially after post-election violence in 2007. Although tribal difference is the means by which it is described in Kenya, it was striking to me that we all find ways to separate ourselves from one another. I wonder why we do this. Because of a local rock quarry, people of all tribes have come together in this portion of the valley. As Jeremiah put it, "They have found a need for one another." I'm certain that it was God's dancing day!

The soundtrack running through my mind all day was an album new to me, Mumford & Sons'Sigh No More. The lyrics to "Awake My Soul" stuck with me throughout the day that was an overwhelmingly transcendent experience.

How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes

I struggle to find any truth in your lies

And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know

This weakness I feel I must finally show

Lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all

But lend me your heart and I'll just let you fall

Lend me your eyes I can change what you see

But your soul you must keep, totally free

In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die

Where you invest your love, you invest your life

In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die

Where you invest your love, you invest your life

Awake my soul, awake my soul

Awake my soul

You were made to meet your maker

Awake my soul, awake my soul

Awake my soul

You were made to meet your maker

You were made to meet your maker

(Sunset outside the Longernot Transit Hotel)

Penultimate Experience

Well, we're over half way through the week. The rain has not subsided, and fatigue is starting to set in. We took it easy this morning, and spent the afternoon working at the summer camp at Christ Church Cathedral in New Orleans. Many of our youth had already spent a day or two there this week, but we all got to go together this afternoon. It was a fantastic experience. Each of the youth had one, if not four, kids hanging on them at all times. They played games, spent time reading stories, taught karate, and sang songs. It was great fun!

Tonight we went back to St. Anna's Episcopal Church for their mid-week Eucharist. It was just as much fun as Sunday morning, and this time we got to share our experiences with our friends from Connecticut. Following the service, we were served dinner - delicious Nah'wlins red beans & rice - by the St. Anna's parish family. We also got to enjoy traditional New Orleans jazz by Doc Otis and the Junker Jazz Allstars. They were fantastic!

The emotional toll of a trip with such great intensity is starting to pile up. The youth are asking hard questions, not finding easy answers, and struggling with issues - personal and communal. None of this is bad - in fact, it's exactly what should be happening. But that doesn't mean it's not overwhelming. Each of us will come back changed. And we can't wait to share those experiences with you!

In the midst of tearful revelations, downpours, and challenging work - we've still laughed so hard we've cried every single day. It's ben an unforgettable week.

Tomorrow is our last full day of work. Then we're off to a final Cajun dinner, Zydaco dancing, and closing Eucharist. In the midst of packing, and trying to get things wrapped up, I won't have time to blog tomorrow night. But please know that we've had a wonderful trip. All is well. And we couldn't be more grateful for your love and support. Thank you, St. David's.

Goodnight, New Orleans!

Troubled Waters

Today we did hurricane clean-up work in the midst of rain from a tropical storm in the Gulf. It was WET - all day. During one particular downpour, we asked the youth to gather under the shelter. After a total of three and a half minutes they began asking why they couldn't work in the rain. Realizing there were no doors for us to lock, they just ran back into the rain and continued working to clear the lots. One youth boldly proclaimed, "This is nothing compared to Katrina! Of course we can handle this."

Reginald is a resident in the lower 9th ward. This morning he shared with me his story of the storm. After the levees had broken, he took a boat that he found stuck in a tree and went from house to house rescuing his elderly neighbors.

James is the caretaker at Annunciation, where we are staying. He gathered seven of his friends the day after the storm to rescue residents in his neighborhood. By the end of the day, only two of his friends were still alive. Tonight during compline, he took time to share his story with us. Let me just preface his story by sharing that James is no wilting flower - think Michael Duncan as John Coffey in The Green Mile. The man oozes wisdom. I've never met a grown adult who openly shares emotions when they are particularly tough. James began by telling us that after the storm, he cried himself to sleep 365 days a year for 3 straight years. Did you know that a Pampers diaper will allow a baby to float for up to an hour and a half? James found that out on August 30, 2005 as he was swimming the streets in the Broadmoor district trying to revive baby after baby that was floating on the surface of the water that flooded the neighborhood - not from a broken levee, but from a flooded sewage system. James spent the next few weeks in the New Orleans convention center. He described vivid scenes and shared images that I'll never be able to get out of my head. But most startling was his proclamation that, "Racism and classism will exist until the end of time. There ain't nothing you can do about that. But for those few days, God leveled the playing field. It didn't matter what you had, because you didn't have it anymore. We was all one." Each night from approximately 6PM until 1AM, a large group of residents in the Convention Center gathered for Bible Study. James also commented on the diversity of denominations and backgrounds of the participants. Once again, it didn't matter where people had come from, they were all praying to the same God. One of the most startling moments for the youth came when James reminded them what happened to peers their age. In the wake of the storm, many schools were shut down and children and families were shipped to various states. All students had to take entry exams. Those who were previously in 11th grade, may have been pushed back to 9th grade if they didn't perform well enough on tests. There was no advocating to be done. That was their new life.

Jean makes breakfast for us every morning. In the aftermath of the storm, she rescued 17 people from her neighborhood in the lower 9th ward and piled them into her four door sedan and drove them to Baton Rouge. One of the gentlemen was mentally handicapped. Upon arriving in Baton Rouge, he complained to the authorities that he had been kidnapped. Jean and her husband were punished and not allowed to sleep in the shelter that they had shuttled everyone to.

James, Reginald, and Jean have first hand experience in the business of saving people. Yet, in the telling of their stories, in the coming alive of the truths they have lived, they told about how they had been saved by Hurricane Katrina. Without exception, they had positive things to say - lessons learned from the storm, bridges built, and the power of an incarnational God.

Christianity is an incarnational religion. Jesus Christ came to be incarnate among the people. We are called to spread the Good News of God's love through relationships. It doesn't matter the depth of your knowledge of Christian scripture or theology if it remains in a vacuum. It is when the power of Christian love becomes incarnate through relationships that we are changed.

Despite obvious frustration and anger towards the city and the government, James preached (although I'm not sure that's what he would call it,) a message of reconciliation tonight. He ended with this proclamation, "It is because of you - volunteers - that our city is back. You all are the president. You all are the governors. You all are our government." The city is being transformed by the people who show up, who are present, and who spread the love of God.

Today one of the adults caught three of our youth gathered in an area with heavy brush holding hands and praying. Yeah, that really happened. The power of God in these people and this place is undeniable. And we are being changed because of it.

Good night, New Orleans!

Lower 9th Ward

I have to start tonight's blog by sharing with you a quote from last night's baseball game that I forgot to include in yesterday's post. So when I told you there were varying degrees of interest in the actual game, the most apparent indicator of that was one of our youth asking, "How many teams are playing?" at the beginning of the game.

Not once - during total indifference to a baseball game, working in 90 degree heat with 100% humidity, or while waiting in line for showers with 40 of their closest friends have the youth complained. Most (if not all) of the time, we haven't fully known what we were getting ourselves into. But the attitudes with which the youth have approached every task has been nothing short of Holy.

Today was our first day of work. Some of us went to a summer camp that is being run by Christ Church Cathedral. The youth who went to that site spent time working and playing with younger kids, which they loved. One of the challenging aspects of the camp for our group to confront was the lack of structure and resources that were being poured into the kids. It did NOT look anything like Vacation Bible School at St. David's. As one of our adult volunteers pointed out, "I'm certain that the people running this thing have not been 'Safeguarded'." Over and over again, we are confronting our own expectations and how that informs our ideas of "success." This is such important work.

The other members of our group headed to the Lower 9th Ward for a full day of work. We have made a new best friend, Ms. Jackson. (And yes, we have also found our theme song for the trip!) We have been paired with the Homeowners Association of the Lower 9th Ward, of which Ms. Jackson is the president. She introduced us to her neighbors and showed us around the neighborhood. Ms. Jackson lives three blocks from one of the levees that broke and flooded this area of town. Driving around was absolutely surreal. A neighborhood that used to be bustling and dynamic is still actively struggling to recover. There was a sign on the main road that proudly proclaimed, "Rebuilding our neighborhood," with the signatures of major city officials. Just below the main message was a graffiti response that read, "Five years too late!" In more concrete terms - there used to be 18,000 residents in the lower 9th ward. There are currently 2,000 residents. We were also able to drive around the streets on which Brad Pitt has been the catalyst for building environmentally sustainable, affordable homes for working class families. The dignity and beauty that has been brought to the community by this project is breathtaking! They have only just begun.

Our task for the day was to help clear overgrown lots where homes used to be. Families who used to live in the neighborhood and still own property, many of whom have not yet moved back to the city, are being fined $100 a day by the city for not maintaining their property. I don't spend $100 a day on anything. I can't imagine losing $100 a day on something that I am not physically present to control. Many of the residents are elderly and are not physically capable of maintaining their property. Others are simply not back yet - for a whole host of reasons. Our youth dove head first into the deep end. We were given weed wackers that didn't work, scythes that wouldn't stay attached to the handles, and saws that were rusted through. Not once did they complain. As we parked the vans and climbed out, there was nothing but overgrown brush, weeds, and a "massive sea of green." Block by block - they wacked, cut, snipped, raked, and hand-cleared everything in sight. By mid-afternoon we could see sidewalk, porches, and shrubbery that wasn't there a few hours earlier. As unglamorous as the job was, it was gratifying to be able to point and see how much progress we were making. The power of working with a group was also magnified as the old adage, "conquer and divide," came through in a big way.

This evening we had a presentation from Pete Nunnally, the director of Episcopal Community Services of Louisiana. He gave us an eye-opening volunteer orientation. Pete began by getting the youth to share their various assumptions and biases that had been picked up along the way about the city, Hurricane Katrina, and volunteer work in general. With maps of waterways, diagrams of the socioeconomic make-up of the city, and strategic points of city-rebuild programs, we systematically had our assumptions debunked. Pete held their attention for an hour and a half. And then they TALKED about it afterwords!!! Good things are happening here.

Our group looks forward to Compline at the end of the day and the time when everyone receives letters from their prayer partners. Please know that as the youth are serving others, learning about themselves, and glorifying God, St. David's is with us on every step of the journey. The youth are asking questions and getting to know each of our prayer partners through letters and stories from the adults hundreds of miles away. The youth are more engrained in their home parish and the world than when we left three days ago.

Two of the youth hijacked the computer momentarily and had this to offer about their Mondays. Emily Hodge said, "I am learning a great deal about community, peace, and loving your neighbor. I have met some great people from all over America, and I love them already. Bryant Bowyer added this, "I have learned about the unfortunate cards that truly amazing people have been dealt, and I am learning everyday that although the circumstances may look extremely grim, there is alway a way that I can help."

Thanks be to God! Good night New Orleans.

Zealous for Zephyrs

After a much needed night's rest, our day began at Lil Dizzy's Cafe in the Treme district. It's a greasy spoon of the best sort, where the youth indulged in "New Orleans style French toast," omelettes, and Soul Food. The food was exceptional! We have yet to enter an establishment - food, worship, or otherwise - where people do not bend over backwards to share gratuitous hospitality. Lil Dizzy's, named after the owner's grandson who plays saxophone, was no exception.

After sharing a leisurely Sunday brunch, we walked the two blocks to St. Anna's Episcopal Church. Greeting us on the walls of the garden outside of the church were laundry lists with the names of people in the immediate neighborhood who had died a violent death, listed by year. The list for 2010 is already taller than we are, and it's only June. I think it's fair to say that the youth entered with a bit of caution, not knowing what to expect. We enjoyed every minute we spent with the St. Anna's community. It is certainly more, "smells, bells, and whistles" than we're used to. But the youth were respectfully observant and quick to voice the practices they thought St. David's should adopt in our debrief following the service. Father Terry preached a fantastic sermon about the Cost of Discipleship. To say that his message came through loud and clear would be an understatement. The youth had lots to say about the ways in which his message applied to our purpose this week. It was the welcome after the peace that did me in. Father Terry took the time to greet us and thank us for being in New Orleans, "90% of the challenge of discipleship is showing up. And that is exactly what you've done for us. You have honored the city and people of New Orleans simply by being here. Thank you." We look forward to returning to St. Anna's on Wednesday evening for their Mission to Musicians program - dinner and New Orleans Jazz!

Our next stop was the French Quarter. For many of us, it was our first time in the quarter. The stories are too varied and exciting to relay here now, but be sure to ask us when we get home! We broke into small groups and went exploring with an adult and a few other youth. Beignets, jambalaya, gumbo, masks, and bead were all a part of this exciting afternoon!

Later in the afternoon we drove through some of the most devastated neighborhoods in the city after Katrina hit. In particular, we laid eyes on the spots where some of the levees broke and completely cleared entire areas of town. We've also been marveling at the Superdome and surrounding highways - where we know folks were camped out for days. When we got back to Annunciation, Lee Parker (one of our adult sponsors whose parents were living in New Orleans during Katrina,) shared a slideshow of his pictures from the same neighborhoods we drove through today the Christmas after Katrina. There has certainly been progress. But it's remarkable how much there is yet to be done.

We ended our day with a New Orleans Zephyrs baseball game (minor league, AAA). While there was a variety of levels of enthusiasm, all were proud of our 8th inning rally. Though the Zephyrs were losing 2-8 at this point, we managed to get into cheering/dancing match with another large group of youth in a different section on the next level up in the stadium. Yes, we made the jumbotron - MORE THAN ONCE. Although the Zephyrs lost, it was an epic evening for team St. David's!

Our youth have been stunningly quick to jump on board with my challenge of never complaining about the heat. We are convinced that being from Texas, we can handle the weather much more gracefully than the groups from Virginia, Connecticut, and Missouri. So whenever, someone makes a comment about the heat, our youth are quick to respond with, "It's just bright out here." Or, "This...this is like October in Austin." I'll let you know how that goes tomorrow, once the work begins.

Good night from New Orleans!